


Touch of Sweetness

by Nanashi Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: First Time, Love, Loyalty, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-26
Updated: 2006-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Nanashi%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mori's loyalty and devotion have always come to him unquestioned, but Honey has begun to believe questions should be asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch of Sweetness

Honey lifts the lids from all the little china sugarbowls, revealing crystals of white and blonde and shades of brown, some so fine they flow down the slope of themselves, others coarse and singular to the naked eye, all sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. He licks the tip of his forefinger, offering a sheen of saliva for the crystals from the first bowl to cling to long enough to make the journey to his tongue. 

"Oh," he says in disappointment when he has sampled from each one, "she didn't bring the turbinado." He looks around for the serving maid but she is nowhere in sight. He starts to get up but before he can even push his chair back fully from the table, Mori is already disappearing into the house.

Moments later, Mori returns bearing another small bowl which he places on the tray before Honey. He sits down without a word and drops a few dark muscovado crystals into his cup, just a touch of sweetness, before setting the strainer across it and pouring from the oolong pot. 

"Thank you." Legs swinging, Honey spoons a second heap of turbinado into his own teacup before reaching for the pot of chocolate & vanilla. As he pours for himself, he slides a furtive glance to Mori. "But Takashi, you don't have to do such things for me, you know." He turns to look openly at Mori now. "We're no longer children. And you don't serve me," he reminds Mori gently.

"I do." Mori is quiet in his stubbornness, not defiant but matter-of-fact.

It _is_ fact to Mori, Honey knows. And it used to be fact to him, too. Even when they were at Ouran, he accepted it, he accepted Mori as his. It is only of late, as they have watched their friends and former classmates grow in the world, as Honey himself has grown, that he has begun to look at Mori with new eyes and has wished for Mori to experience the world anew as well. Mori's loyalty and devotion have always come to him unquestioned but Honey has begun to believe questions should be asked.

"My family has served yours for generations," Mori continues, lowering his cup from a matter-of-fact sip. "Just because two of our ancestors chose to violate that bond does not mean it has been broken."

Honey studies Mori. His face, his body, his aura. Honey wonders if Mori has begun to consider questions, too. Honey has to believe he has; for all his devotion and devout loyalty, Mori is nobody's fool. He is nobody's dog but that he would choose to be so. Take Mori's words and tone just now, for example: they might have sounded neutral to someone unaccustomed to Mori's voice but Honey heard the undercurrent of disapproval, if not outright admonishment, when he mentioned their ancestors.

"But Takashi," Honey says after a moment's consideration, "what if that is what my ancestor wanted of yours?"

Mori is sipping again. Honey tries to watch for flickers of thought in his eyes but they are half-lidded. When Mori lowers his cup, Honey notices the surreptitious push of his wrist against the near plate bearing a piece of cake, subtly shoving it into Honey's path. "We serve you, but not blindly to your every whim. We also protect you, from yourselves if necessary."

Honey pops a generous forkful of cake into his smiling mouth. "How do you know," he asks almost before he's done swallowing, a skill he has perfected over the years, "when to serve and when to protect?"

"I just know," Mori responds, and Honey hears the words unspoken, washed down with Mori's next swallow of tea: _I just know you_.

Honey inhales the last chunk of cake and pushes back from the table but doesn't rise from his chair. "What if I wanted you to look at me?" he asks, undoing the belt of his robe and stretching as it falls open. 

Calm, steady, Mori looks at him.

Honey turns his head to try to find the bird making that sweet, low call. 

"Takashi," he says, still looking off even though he has given up trying to identify the bird, "come here, please, and take my robe."

"Do you wish to bathe?"

Now Honey turns to him: "I wish you to see me naked."

Over the years, ever since they were babies together, they have seen each other naked. Nevertheless, Honey thinks he sees a hint of stutter in Mori's swallow this time. But when he gets up and comes to Honey, Mori's steps are smooth. Honey gets to his feet and turns to let Mori take the robe from his shoulders, sliding it down his arms; then he turns back to find Mori kneeling before him.

"What if I wanted you to touch me, Takashi?"

Wordlessly, Mori raises his hand, brushes the back of it lightly against Honey's temple before his fingers uncurl to brush a few errant strands back with the rest of Honey's hair.

"My skin," Honey's mouth smiles in request. 

Mori's eyes are lowered as lifts his hand again, lets his fingertips find the curve of Honey's jaw, telegraphing an invisible tremor as they rest there.

"With your mouth," Honey offers the command.

Mori's hand falls away; his lips find the exact spot on Honey's jawline. After a moment, they slide apart but only just barely, only just enough for breath.

"My brow," Honey breathes himself, and Mori kneels up to press his lips to smooth, unfurrowed skin.

"My eyelids," Honey says, closing them to feel the gentle touch there, on each in turn.

"My mouth," Honey murmurs, and wonders to hear his voice slide lower, not as deep as Mori's; nothing of him could ever be as deep as Mori. But deeper than usual for himself, yes. 

And then there is no more time to contemplate depths, for Mori's mouth is on his, Mori's lips brushing his. Honey opens his mouth to ask for Mori's tongue, and Mori knows without words, his tongue slipping in to touch Honey's, to curl and cradle and caress, his arms doing the same to Honey's body. Mori knows, he knows without words, oh, he _knows_ Honey, he does, yes, he does.

Still no words as they move, Mori carrying him to the sweet shade of a red maple, setting him down to recline as Mori undresses himself. And still, as Mori lies with him, no words, just Honey's fingers instructing Mori's mouth here to his own mouth again, here again to his jaw. Here: his throat. Here: his collarbone. Here: his sternum. Here: a nipple; and here: the other. Here: down to his navel. Here: his hipbone.

Here, his fingers touch: the crown of his cock.

Unquestioningly, Mori bends his head.

"Takashi." 

Mouth close enough for Honey to feel Mori's breath but naught else, Mori stops.

"You don't have to do this," Honey says.

When Mori raises his face, there is a brightness in his eyes that Honey has never seen. "I have wanted you to want this," Mori confesses, "I have waited..."

Honey reaches for him, fingers burrowing through soft hair to stroke against the skin over his skull. "What if I had not asked? What if I had never asked?"

"Then," Mori says without hesitation, "I would have waited still." And with a smile rarely seen, he lowers his head again to take Honey into his mouth, engulfing him, swallowing him down, radiating pleasure, the heat of his mouth illuminating Honey's own pleasure ~ spinning thrill upon thrill ~ bringing pleasure to ecstasy ~ bringing Honey, finally, to completion. 

Mori sits up to look at him, and there is still radiance and illumination, the sun a soft halo to Mori's silhouette, and Honey knows why it is called afterglow. As Honey gazes at Mori, slipping from the mutual gaze to an ocular caress of his body, he realizes that the completion Mori has given Honey is not yet Mori's. 

Their eyes meet again, and with an unprecedented hesitation, Mori asks if it would give Honey pleasure to watch him.

"It would give me pleasure," Honey smiles as he sits up, "to be the one to do it." He presses his smiling mouth to Mori's, presses a hand to Mori's chest to get him to sit back on heels, and sits himself on Mori's knees. He looks down as he wraps his hand around Mori's cock, strokes full-contact, his palm sliding up and down the blood-hot skin, sweet friction, so sweet he has to know what it tastes like and so Honey slides off Mori to bring his mouth down, opening to take Mori in, tongue sampling the sweetness of Mori's completion, oh, ohh yes, so sweet.

Mori covers them both with his robe as they doze beneath the tree. As he nestles himself to the curve of Mori's body, Honey's tongue lingers on his lower lip, a trace of Mori's sweetness lingering there. Now Honey knows his taste; now, yes, Honey knows Mori, too.


End file.
